Together
by jozivabellepattersonfan
Summary: Jo is dealing with the results of learning Henry's secret. Meanwhile, a high-profile case hits her desk. Fifth in the "Homeless" series.
1. One Death

I was washing my face that night when it hit me.

Henry Morgan was immortal. He died frequently in many and various ways, and he always came back. But it only took one death to take away Sean Moore. One ridiculous, unexpected, far too early death.

I was glad that Henry wasn't dead. I just couldn't stop thinking about how unfair it was that he was here, and Sean was not.

Slowly I dried my face with a towel and set it on the counter. I went through the motions of getting ready for bed: brushing my teeth, changing into my pajamas, setting my alarm, even pulling back the covers. Then I turned off the light in my bedroom and went to sit in the living room. Maybe late night talk shows would distract me enough to sleep.

Four hours later, I decided that the talk shows were getting me nowhere. I switched off the television and went to the kitchen for some wine.

The sun was rising when I finally fell asleep, my head on the kitchen table, only to encounter an angry Sean pointing to a blanket-clad Henry. "Why does he get to live?" Sean shouted.

The phone ringing jerked me out of my doze. I tried to grab it and failed; my arm didn't seem strong enough to reach across the table. Numbly, I watched the screen go dark. "They'll call again in a minute," I mumbled to myself, and fell asleep again. This time I didn't dream.

The sun was setting when I woke again to the pounding on my front door. I got to my feet, stumbling a little, and peered through the peephole. It was Henry. Of course it was Henry.

I opened the door a crack. "What do you want?" I asked. My voice sounded strangely muffled.

"Jo, what happened to you?" Henry pushed the door open further and caught me when I started to fall. Without a word, he carried me inside, shut the door, and laid me gently on the couch. He knelt on the floor next to me.

"I'm fine, Henry," I whispered after a minute. "Just tired."

"Jo, it's seven o'clock at night," he told me. I couldn't decide if he sounded amused or concerned. "If you were tired, perhaps you should have slept all night rather than all day."

"I didn't sleep all day," I protested. Seven at night? That was ridiculous. Hanson had only called just a moment ago.

"Somehow, I don't believe you." He reached over me to grab the blanket from the back of the couch. I felt its weight settling over me. "Rest, Jo. I'll find you something to eat." He got to his feet and headed towards the kitchen.

"I'm not hungry."

"You need food, Detective," Henry called from the kitchen. "And probably Abe's hangover remedy."

"I'm not hungover," I mumbled. "I only had a few glasses of wine."

He returned to the room with a package of crackers and a glass of water. "The empty bottle on the table says otherwise," he replied, kneeling next to me once more. "Can you sit up?"

I tried, just to prove him wrong – because wasn't I mad at him for some reason? – but my body wouldn't cooperate. He slid one arm behind my back to help me into a sitting position, re-settling the blanket over my legs before handing me the water. "Drink slowly," he warned. I nodded and took a couple of cautious sips. "Are you done?" he asked. In response, I held out the glass. He took it and replaced it with some crackers, which I nibbled on.

"I took the liberty of using your phone to text Detective Hanson," Henry said while he watched me eat.

"Why?" I asked through a mouthful of crumbs.

"He was quite concerned about you when you didn't show up at the crime scene. If we hadn't been on a high-profile case, he would have been knocking down your door himself."

My heart started to pound. "High-profile case?"

"You can worry about that tomorrow," Henry deflected. "Right now, you need to worry about recovering." He paused. "Why are you recovering, Jo? What happened last night?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to remember, but how could I forget Sean yelling at Henry in my dreams? "Sean," I whispered, not wanting to say the whole truth. "Sean. He's gone."

"I know, Jo. I'm sorry."

His sincere condolences cracked through my smokescreen. I opened my eyes. "Get out, Henry!" I threw the blanket at him, then the crackers. "Get out!"

"Jo, what-?"

"Just get out!" I turned away from him, burying my face into the couch, trying not to burst into tears until he was gone.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said after several minutes, sounding hurt and confused. He draped the blanket back over my shuddering body and left.

* * *

Hello again! This story came to me a lot more quickly than I expected. It's a good deal longer than my last one, word count wise. Reading "Homeless" would help you understand this story, as it's set directly after the end of that story. The title for this one - "Together" - has a variety of meanings. I hope you'll enjoy the journey as you figure it out. :)


	2. Hometown Hero

I woke on the couch the following morning at about six o'clock. It took me several minutes to remember why I was there. When it came to me, I wanted to fall asleep again just to escape the shame. I had drunk myself into a stupor, slept through a full day of a high-profile case, and yelled at the person who cared enough to come check on me.

As I forced myself to get ready for work, I wondered, _What on earth am I going to do?_

My first item of business wasn't hard to figure out. Upon my arrival at the precinct, I went straight to Lieutenant Reece's office.

"Ah, Detective, you've decided to join us," she said, looking up and raising her eyebrows at me.

"I apologize for my absence yesterday, Lieutenant. I have no good explanation."

"No good explanation?"

I suppressed a sigh. "May I close the door, Lieutenant?"

"Please do."

I closed the door and stood with my hands behind me. "I'm sure you remember what I was like after my husband's passing. I had a relapse the night before last, and ended up sleeping it off all day yesterday. I apologize, and I accept any disciplinary actions you might take against me."

She leaned forward in her chair, eyes intent on me. "If I didn't have such desperate need of you right now, Detective, you can rest assured that I would take action against you. However, this case demands your investigative skills."

I was expecting her to put me on unpaid leave. I blinked at her. "My investigative skills in particular?"

"That's correct. I want my best team on this – and no team in the precinct has a higher case closure rate than you, Hanson, Henry, and Lucas."

I nodded, although my heart sank at the prospect of seeing Henry again. "May I be excused, then? I would like to get started immediately."

She flapped a hand at me, and I turned to leave.

"Jo," she called when I was halfway through the door. I looked back at her. "You were doing better. Whatever was helping you? Let it help you again."

"I'll try, Lieu." As I walked over to Hanson, I thought again, _What on earth am I going to do?_

"Jo, you're here!" Hanson exclaimed, causing heads to turn all over the room. More quietly he asked, "How are you?"

"I'm fine." He appeared to be bursting with questions; I forestalled them by saying, "Tell me about the case."

He gestured to the board. I recognized the photograph just as he said, "Thomas Bishop was murdered."

 _"What?"_ I yelped _._ Everyone knew who Thomas Bishop was. He was the pitcher for the Mets, a New York City hometown hero who mentored at-risk teens and coached Little League in his spare time. From all accounts, he was the nicest guy anyone had ever met. "Who would kill Thomas Bishop?"

" _That_ is the million-dollar question." Hanson pointed to the pictures on the murder board. "He was found in his living room, shot through the heart. Nothing was disturbed except the bedroom upstairs, which was totally trashed. His next-of-kin is his daughter, Emily. She's coming in today from Pennsylvania. I'm hoping she'll be able to tell us if anything is missing from the bedroom."

I sat down at my desk, staring at the board. Thomas Bishop, dead in his own home – while I was nearly dead in my own. I could hardly believe I'd let myself sleep through such an important case.

"Would you mind taking Emily's interview?" Hanson asked. "I need to continue going through these security cams from the neighbor's house across the street."

"Sure. Just get me up to speed."

He opened his notepad and read, "Bishop died between twelve and one o'clock Tuesday night. Cause of death was a single gunshot wound to the heart from a forty-five. He returned from a press conference at 11:30 PM – we have that information courtesy of a nosy neighbor, who also found his body yesterday morning when he didn't pick up the paper at precisely eight o'clock. So sometime between 11:30 PM and 1 AM Tuesday night, the killer got into Bishop's house, killed him, trashed his bedroom, and left without being seen or heard."

"Any abrasions on Bishop's body, any indication that he had the chance to fight back?"

"None. Doc says he must have been taken by surprise. There were no signs of a struggle."

"Damn." I turned to look at the board again. "Have you talked to any of Bishop's teammates, his manager?"

"His manager, yes, teammates, no. That's part of my task for today."

"What did the manager say?"

"Said Bishop seemed fine when he left the press conference, he'd been playing well and was generally happy and well-liked by everyone."

I stood up and started to pace. "You said his daughter is the next-of-kin. What happened to his wife? Death or divorce?"

"Death," a voice said from behind me. Hanson and I turned to see a young woman trying not to look at the murder board.

"Emily Bishop?" I asked. She nodded. "I apologize, Miss Bishop. Please, come this way." I gestured for her to follow me to the conference room, mentally kicking myself.

"Don't worry, Detective," Emily remarked as she took a seat at the table. "I'm the daughter of a celebrity. Trust me, I've heard worse."

* * *

Here's the second chapter! Thanks to everyone who has read, and to KenH and superlc529 for reviewing! It starts off very angsty and stays that way for awhile... but I think you'll like where it ends up. :)


	3. Calm

"My name is Detective Jo Martinez," I told Emily as I sat across from her. "My partner, Detective Mike Hanson, is assembling some photos for you to look over. First, if I may – when did you last speak to your father?"

She didn't look away, as most family members did when asked personal questions. She held my gaze as she replied, "Wednesday evening, before his press conference. It was after I got off work at 7 PM."

I made a note. "How did he sound?"

"He sounded normal. He was having a good season, and he was excited about some of the new players on the team."

"Was there anyone on the Mets that he was close to?"

She chuckled. "My dad is – my dad _was_ close to everyone, from the hot dog sellers to the owners. He made an effort to get to know every single person associated with the Mets. I know that, when he had time, he liked to invite over his manager and his wife for dinner. The first baseman, too, and his wife."

I made another note, then hesitated. I would normally ask this in a more roundabout way, but Emily seemed so direct and forthcoming that I decided to ask her straight out. "Did your father have any enemies?"

"No." She anticipated my question and continued, "He was a nice guy, Detective. A real, honest-to-goodness nice guy. If he had a conflict with someone, he worked it out. If other players were jealous of his success, he practiced with them so they could become better."

"What about players on other teams?"

"They loved playing against him, because he never used trash talk, never tried to trick them or distract them. He just played ball."

"Your father mentored some at-risk teens, is that correct?"

"Yes." She pulled out her phone and began to scroll through her contacts. "He mentored one in particular, Alano Mendoza. I've met him several times, usually at my father's games. He was planning to help Alano enter the Minor Leagues." She found the contact she was looking for and passed the phone over to me. "That's his number."

I wrote down the number. "What about fans?" I asked. "You mentioned earlier that you've heard some nasty comments, as the daughter of a celebrity."

"Yes. The fans could be rude and demeaning at times, but they never threatened my dad or me. It was just talk, nothing more."

Hanson knocked on the door of the conference room; when I looked up, he handed over a file folder and returned to his desk.

"These are the photos I mentioned earlier," I told her, opening the folder and spreading them out on the table. "Nothing in your father's house was touched except for his bedroom. We were hoping you might be able to tell us if anything was missing."

"Of course." She took her time to examine each photo. Meanwhile, I read through the paper that Hanson had stuck behind the photos. It was a brief bio on Emily. She was twenty-five years old, had never been married, and worked as an emergency dispatcher in Pittsburgh. That explained her almost eerie calmness. Her entire profession depended on her ability to be calm in stressful situations.

"Detective?" Emily handed me a photograph of a dresser turned on its side, its drawers dumped out. Potted daisies and picture frames that must have been on top of the dresser were askew on the floor. "He kept a safe behind the dresser. Just a small one, big enough to contain his grandfather's watch and his grandmother's wedding ring. From the picture, it looks like the safe was taken."

I took the photo, made a note on the back, and replaced it in the file folder. "Were those two items insured?"

"Yes. His bank should have the information."

"Do you see anything else that could have been taken?" She shook her head. "This is very helpful, Miss Bishop, thank you."

"Do you have any leads?"

"At this time, the missing safe is our best lead," I told her. "We plan to talk to your father's teammates and coaches today to see if they know anything that might help us. We will also talk to Alano Mendoza."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "All right."

I had saved this question until last, since I offended her earlier. "I apologize for having to ask this, Miss Bishop, but how did your mother die?"

Emily looked away. "She was in a hit-and-run when I was six."

"That's all I need to know, Miss Bishop. Thank you very much for coming in," I said, getting to my feet. "We'll keep you in the loop as we learn more."

She stood up and followed me out of the room. "Thank you, Detective. I appreciate all of your hard work." She shook my hand, nodded to Hanson, and left the squad room.

"Well, that was strange," I said.

"What was strange?" Hanson asked, swiveling around in his chair.

"Normally, next-of-kin interviews are a bit more... emotional. Not that I'm complaining, but still, it was strange." I shrugged and went to look over Hanson's shoulder. "How's the footage coming?"

"I checked the time of death window and didn't find anything, so I'm looking through the whole day in case the killer snuck in earlier."

"Good plan."

"Why don't you go down and check on the autopsy?" he suggested. "Henry should be done by now."

"Of course," I said, trying not to sound anxious. "I'll see you in a bit." He nodded and turned back to his computer as I went to the elevator. _Henry and I have had our differences before,_ I told myself. _He'll forgive me._

The question was, could I forgive him?

* * *

I know, I know - you want to see Jo interacting with Henry. Don't worry, that's coming next chapter, and I don't think you'll be disappointed! However, I decided that having another delay before she has to go see him was realistic and would give her a chance to feel normal again.

Thanks to everyone who has read, followed, favorited and reviewed! Superlc529 - yes, Jo keeps sticking her foot in her mouth! I think it would be easy to portray her in a positive light, but it's more difficult to portray her as a flawed character whose flaws keep coming back. The flaw I'm choosing to focus on isn't a character flaw per say but a part of her past that keeps popping up. Part of the reason for writing this sequel was because I didn't feel that the ending of "Homeless" properly addressed that. KenH - hopefully this explains why the daughter felt flat-affect. I wanted to flesh her out a bit. I'll be doing that with several of the people we meet!


	4. The Spirit of Honesty

"Hello, Detective," Henry called as he emerged from his office. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm fine," I replied. I wanted to say more, but all that came out was, "Have you finished the autopsy?"

"Yes, we just finished," Lucas said. He was cleaning utensils in the sink. "Other than the gunshot wound, we found nothing out of the ordinary."

"Mr. Bishop was in excellent physical condition, had no medical problems, and even ate well, judging by his stomach contents," Henry continued.

"We're still waiting for his blood results to come back, but we don't expect anything exciting to pop," Lucas added.

I sighed. "All right. Thanks, guys." I hesitated. Normally Henry came with me for interviews, but would he even want to, after last night?

He answered that question for me. "Are you going to visit with Mr. Bishop's teammates and coaches?" he inquired. "Since the autopsy is complete, and we found nothing of use, I would like to assist."

"That would be great, Henry, thank you."

Henry went to grab his coat. Lucas looked from me to Henry and back. I could tell he was wondering if we were still in our "rough patch." _Technically, we're in a new rough patch, and Henry doesn't even know why,_ I mused, feeling more guilty than ever.

We walked to the parking lot in silence. Before I started the car, I turned to Henry. "In the spirit of honesty, Henry..."

"Always a good spirit..."

I smiled briefly, remembering our conversation from earlier in the week. Then I sobered. "I want to tell you what happened the other night. You have been honest with me, and I want to return that honesty."

"If you don't want to tell me, or you're not ready to tell me–" Henry began. I cut him off.

"I need to tell you."

"I'm listening, then."

I took a deep breath. "When I found out you were immortal, I was overjoyed, because the other option was for you to be dead."

"I understand."

My next words came out in a rush. "But the other night, I couldn't help thinking how unfair it was that you've died so many times, and you always come back, but it only took one death to take Sean away."

Henry opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He looked down at his hands. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

Finally I said, "Don't get me wrong, Henry – I'm very glad you're alive."

He held up a hand. "I know." He paused. "And I appreciate your honesty, Jo. If my being here is a painful reminder for you, perhaps I should go."

Unsure of his meaning, I asked timidly, "Go?"

Every word seemed to be a struggle for him as he continued, "Yes, go. I have been here too long, and I do not wish to burden you any more than I already have. I will go, find work elsewhere."

"No!" The exclamation burst out of me. "No, Henry, don't go!"

He raised his eyes to meet mine. "You want me to stay?"

"You didn't ask to be immortal. And it's not your fault that Sean died," I said quietly. "I miss Sean, and I wish he were here, but that doesn't mean that I want you to go. It just means that I need to move on, that's all."

"Do you think that my presence will help you move on?" I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He looked out the window, then back to me. "Then I will gladly stay, Jo."

"Thank you," I whispered.

"But, Jo..."

"Yes?"

"I am deeply sorry about Sean. I know how it feels to lose someone for no good reason, to feel helpless in the face of death. I am here for you, Jo." He reached over and squeezed my hand. He had never done that before, had hardly ever touched me when it wasn't an emergency. My heart fluttered in my chest.

Henry drew back his hand. "I suppose we should get on with those interviews now, Detective."

I had to swallow twice before replying, "Yes, of course, Dr. Morgan."

* * *

I hope that was enough interaction for you! Don't worry, there's a lot more where that came from. Thanks to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and reviewed!

N3GatorFan - thank you! I have never personally been through the death of a spouse, but I can't imagine it's easy, or something that goes away quickly. I hope I'm portraying it at least somewhat accurately in Jo.

KenH - No, I don't think you're focusing too much on that part! It's a significant part of the story and I'm glad you've picked up on it. I think in this case, it's not really Jo forgiving Henry for being immortal, it's a question of will she be able to move on enough from Sean's death to accept Henry's immortality. The best related example I can think of would be if you apply for a job you really want and someone else gets it. You'll have trouble forgiving that person, even though they didn't actually do anything to you.

Superlc529 - thank you! I watched an interview with Alana de la Garza once, and she said that was what drew her to Jo - her flaws. She said it was different from other characters she's played and she appreciated that. So in a sense I'm trying to be true to her, too!

Passerby - hmm, good point. I looked it up and although it's uncommon for older players to be active, it's not unheard of, and pitchers usually last longer than other players. So I was unintentionally more accurate than if I'd made him an outfielder or something.


	5. Leads

We arrived at Citi Field and were immediately brought to the owner's office. He had tears in his eyes when he told us, "Thomas Bishop was a stand-up guy. A real, honest-to-goodness stand-up guy. His pitching skills aside, he mentored the younger players, encouraged the older players, and even got to know the people who worked the concession stands. He will be sorely missed."

Bishop's teammates and coaches told us much the same. The first baseman, whom Emily had reported as one of Bishop's closer friends, could hardly even talk to us. His eyes were red and his voice was hoarse. "My wife and I have hardly stopped crying since we heard the news," he rasped. "Everyone keeps saying, "Let's win for Tom," but that just doesn't seem like enough, you know?"

Henry and I left Citi Field in frustration. "I don't make any of them for murder," I said as we walked back to the car.

"Neither do I," Henry replied. "What's our next stop?"

In response, I pulled out my phone and dialed Hanson's number. "Hey, Hanson, can you look up an address for me?"

"Sure, who are you looking for?"

"Alano Mendoza, Bishop's mentee. I have his number from Emily, but not his address."

I heard the sound of typing. "Here we go..." Hanson said. "Alano Mendoza. Seventeen, lives with his mother Maria in Brooklyn. Sending you the address now."

"Thanks, Mike." I hit "end call" and gestured to Henry. "Get in," I said. "We're going to Brooklyn."

Alano's apartment was on the third floor. We trudged up the stairs as Henry asked, "What do you know about Alano?"

"He was Bishop's mentee," I explained. "Emily said her father wanted to help him get into the Minor Leagues. She met him a few times at her father's games." We made it to the third story. "It's number twelve – ah, here we go." I knocked on the door.

A woman answered. There were deep bags under her eyes, as though she hadn't slept in days. "Yes?"

"Maria Mendoza?" She nodded. "My name is Detective Martinez, and this is Dr. Morgan. We were hoping to speak to your son, Alano, about Thomas Bishop?"

When I said "Detective," Maria's eyes had widened with fear. But at the mention of Thomas Bishop, she relaxed. "Of course. Please, come in." She opened the door wider and called behind her, "Alano! Alano, come here!"

As we entered, a lanky teenage boy emerged from the back hallway. "What is it, Mamá ?"

Maria went over to put an arm around her son. "The police are here, to talk about Tom."

His shoulders sagged for a moment; then he steeled himself. "I will tell you anything, as long as you catch the man who did this," he told us firmly.

We sat around the kitchen table. I introduced myself and Henry to Alano, then asked, "When did you last see Tom?"

"We had lunch on Wednesday. He took me to Leonardo's by the ballpark, to celebrate my team winning the tournament last week."

I made a note, then asked, "Did he seem normal, or did something seem off?"

Alano closed his eyes, as though to picture the scene. "He was normal, mostly. Tom was almost always in a good mood. He did say that he was worried about someone."

"Did he say who?"

"No, just that it was someone he trusted. He thought they were acting strangely. Then he told me not to worry about it, and we talked about my tournament for the rest of the time."

"If I may..." Henry began. When I nodded, he continued, "How did you and Tom meet?"

Maria smiled and put her hand over Alano's. "Tom reached out to Alano's school. He wanted to help teens, but more than most players who say that. He didn't just want to start a program or give money. He wanted to actually get to know them."

"It started out with a group of us who were on the baseball team," Alano put in. "But one by one, they all either dropped out or were recruited."

"Recruited?" Henry and I asked in unison.

"I knew that I was good, maybe good enough for the Minors," Alano said, looking away. "But those who weren't as good, they wanted to find another way to make it when they got out of school. There's a dealer who works through kids at our school to move his product. Most of my friends – they decided that was a better option than a rich guy who might forget about us tomorrow. I knew that Tom wouldn't do that, but they didn't."

We left Alano's with the name of the dealer and the promise of protection, should it come to that. "I believe we have a lead, Detective," Henry said as we got into the car.

"Two leads, in fact," I reminded him. "One, who is this trusted person that Bishop was worried about? And two, was this dealer upset with Bishop for keeping Alano away from him?"

Henry grinned at me. "Let's go find out."

* * *

Leads, yay! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and reviewed! Superlc529 - I'm glad you liked the heart-to-heart. :) KenH - Yes, I think there's hope for those two yet. :)


	6. Leonardo's

I called up Hanson to discuss our leads. He agreed to recruit a couple of Narcotics guys and check out the dealer near Alano's school. Meanwhile, we went back to the baseball stadium. I had a hunch that the "person Bishop trusted" was either his manager or the first baseman, based on what Emily had told us.

As we drove to Citi Field, I saw the sign for Leonardo's. "Hey, Henry," I said, gesturing out the window. "You hungry?"

"Now that you mention it, I am," he replied. "It's nearly two o'clock."

"And we can check out Alano's story, see if anyone remembers seeing them. Maybe a waiter or hostess would remember more about this "person Bishop trusted." You never know."

The restaurant was slow; the lunch rush had come and gone. The manager was only too happy to tell us that yes, Thomas Bishop had been a regular here, and he often brought his mentee, Alano. "I'm devastated by Tommy's death," he said, looking away. "He was a great guy. He always had me bring out the chef so he could say thank you."

We took a seat at a table and looked over the menus. "Everywhere we go, we hear about how wonderful Thomas Bishop was," I commented. "You always hear about nice celebrities, but apparently, Bishop actually was."

"Yes, I agree," Henry said, putting his menu down. "So far, we only know of one person who actually disliked Bishop – the dealer. Even the players on other teams liked him."

The server came to take our order. After she wrote down my minestrone soup and salad and Henry's linguini, I asked, "Were you here during the lunch hour on Wednesday?"

"No, but I know one of the servers who was," she replied. "Let me grab him for you."

"Thank you." While we waited, I admitted to Henry, "I wish I could be so lucky."

"Hm?"

"To have everyone like me. I could live with that, you know?"

"You chose the wrong profession," he told me, not unamused. "But rest assured, Jo, there are many people who like you, in many different ways."

I was about to ask what he meant by that when a different server approached our table. "I was here during Wednesday's lunch hour," he said. "Did you have a question?"

"Yes, just a quick one," I assured him. "I know you have to get back to work. But did you serve Thomas Bishop on Wednesday by chance?"

"No, I didn't."

I sighed. "Okay, never mind then–"

"I did have a table next to him for awhile," he put in. "I overheard a few snippets of his conversation, if that would help you."

Henry and I sat up. "Yes, that would help a lot." I glanced at the server's name tag. "What did you overhear, Tim?"

"Only a few pieces here and there. He asked his friend a lot of questions about his baseball tournament." Tim looked up, concentrating. "I also remember that he felt someone had betrayed him."

"Did he mention a name, or anything that would describe this person?" Henry asked.

Tim shook his head. "No, just that it was someone he trusted."

That matched with Alano's story. "Thanks, Tim. That really helps."

"No problem." His eyes traveled down my body for a split second before he walked away. I snorted. _Teenage boys,_ I thought.

"I could defend your honor if you like," Henry offered. "Although it would hardly be worth it for a snip like him."

 _Of course he noticed._ "I can defend my own honor if I find it necessary," I informed Henry. "But I appreciate the sentiment." He inclined his head gravely.

Our original server arrived with our meals. I ate with gusto; I hadn't realized how hungry I was. Then I remembered I'd hardly eaten anything the day before. _That explains it,_ I thought, grimacing. I didn't want to think about that day anymore.

When I requested the check, our server said, "Jethro, the manager, insisted that I tell you it's on the house, and that he hopes you find the person who took Thomas Bishop away from us too soon."

"Tell him we said thank you, and we will do our best," I replied. To Henry, I said, "Ready to go?"

"Back to the stadium?" he inquired. I nodded, and we fell in step together as we walked to the car. "I would have missed this dearly," Henry said.

"Missed what?" I asked.

"Our investigations, if I had decided to leave," he explained. "Interviewing suspects and finding killers is much more interesting than simply working in the morgue all day."

"You don't like being a medical examiner?" I asked as we got into the car.

He shut his door and turned to look at me. "Oh, no, I do enjoy being a medical examiner. However, if you do not make it a point to get out every once in awhile, you might go mad in the morgue."

I chuckled. "Understandable."

My phone rang, making us both jump. I pulled it out of my pocket and showed it to Henry: Hanson. "You're on speaker, Mike," I said.

"Hey, Doc," he replied. "Just wanted to give you an update. We haven't located the dealer yet, but we did find several of his cronies. They're just kids, teens from Alano's school like you said. Hopefully, one of them will break soon, and then we'll have them."

"All right. We're heading back to the stadium now. We'll let you know if anything shakes up."

"Sounds good." He disconnected the call, and I started the car. I was about to put it into reverse when I saw a person in my rear view mirror, waving for me to stop.

"Is that...?" I squinted at the mirror.

Henry looked over his shoulder. "The owner of the Mets?"

* * *

In case you're wondering, I totally made Leonardo's up. It's the name of a museum where I live, and it sounded Italiany, so... restaurant!

Thanks to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and reviewed! Superlc529 - Yay for leads, indeed! And I think this chapter addressed what you mentioned in your last review: that Henry has progressed as a character in that he actually enjoys leaving the morgue. :) KenH - I wonder all of those things as well. :)


	7. Confess

We got out of the car. The owner – his name was Leon Fisher, I remembered – jogged across the parking lot to join us.

"I was about to call you when I saw you, Detective," he said. "I just got a call from Citi Field."

"What was this call about, Mr. Fisher?" I asked.

"It's David Jonas," he began.

"The first baseman?" Henry inquired.

"Yes. He apparently stopped in the middle of practice and told his manager to take him to the police because he wanted to confess."

I blinked at him. "Confess to what?"

"He wouldn't say. He's on the way to your precinct now. I wanted to give you the heads-up." He shook his head. "If he had something to do with Tom's death... I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't warn you he was on his way."

"Thank you, Mr. Fisher," I said, walking backwards towards the car.

"We appreciate it!" Henry added, opening the passenger side door from behind. Without another word, we jumped in. I had the car in reverse and was backing up before Henry had even closed his door.

"Honest and rich," I said as I drove, shaking my head. "I've hardly met anyone like that in my lifetime, and now I've met two in one day. Well, one, technically. I never met Thomas Bishop."

"I did, once," Henry told me.

I looked over at him. "You met Thomas Bishop, and you're just now caring to enlighten me?"

He laughed. "It was a long time ago, Detective. He was a child, maybe nine years old. He came into the antique shop and purchased a brooch for his mother. Polite and courteous even then."

"Cute." I pulled into my spot by the precinct and parked. "I think that's our man right over there," I said, nudging Henry.

"No, I changed my mind," David Jonas was saying, pulling at his manager's arm. "It's over, it's done, I don't want to confess anymore–" He froze when he saw me walking towards him. His eyes were still red, his voice scratchy.

"Have you committed a crime, Mr. Jonas?" I asked, showing the manager my badge.

"No, no, I haven't," he insisted.

"That's why you stopped practice and made your manager drive you down here? Because you have not committed a crime?"

"How did you know that?" the manager demanded.

"Ask Leon Fisher," I replied without looking away from Jonas. "Well? Do you have something to confess?"

He flinched. "Yes, I mean, no, I mean, no, definitely not, I haven't done anything wrong. Let's go, Ned."

"Wait, please." Henry's voice was quiet and commanding. The manager stayed put. Henry walked over to Jonas. "What has happened to your throat, Mr. Jonas?"

"I've been crying, okay? I'm torn up over Tom's death."

"And I suppose that's your explanation for your eyes, as well?"

"Yeah, duh."

Henry turned to me. "Did you see the crime scene photos from Bishop's bedroom?"

"Yes, why?"

"There had been some flowers on his dresser. Daisies, as I recall. The seeds spread all over the room when the plants fell to the floor." He turned back to Jonas. "And crying on its own would not have such a drastic effect on your eyes and throat, Mr. Jonas, although I commend it as a plausible excuse. You are allergic to daisies, aren't you?"

"No," Jonas said, but he didn't look at Henry when he said it.

"An allergy to daisies doesn't necessarily prove anything," I told Henry.

"No, but daisies aren't in season this time of year, Detective," he replied, still eyeing Jonas. "They're not even in stores yet. Mr. Bishop must have been growing them from seeds. When Mr. Jonas here was in Mr. Bishop's bedroom, his allergies kicked in, causing his eyes to redden and his throat to swell."

"I was in his bedroom, but I didn't kill him," Jonas burst out suddenly. "I swear, I didn't kill him!"

I smiled grimly. "Let's go talk about that, shall we?" I put a firm hand on his shoulder and steered him into the precinct. "Nice catch on the daisies," I said to Henry in an undertone.

"It was a bluff," he murmured. "Daisies have been in season for weeks."

I gaped at him, then grinned. "Well done, Detective Morgan."

He gave me a slight bow. "I learned from the best."

* * *

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. The daisies bluff is one of my favorite moments of the whole story. :) Thanks to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and reviewed!

KenH - I'm glad you think the response to the waiter was in character for both parties!

Superlc529 - Goodness, I'm bitter about that too. It was such a good show, for so many reasons.

Passerby - I thought about that, but I decided that this didn't feel like a bribe, which is what I assume that regulation would be against. The manager wasn't trying to shift Jo's investigation into a different direction; Jo wasn't saying she wouldn't investigate unless she got what she wanted, and she didn't ask for it. I'm sure in legal terms it would still be wrong, but it seemed to fit the story, so I'm choosing to believe that Jo wouldn't get into trouble.


	8. One Mystery Solved

We let Jonas sweat in the interrogation room for a few minutes before going in. As soon as we opened the door, he repeated, "I swear, I didn't kill him! I was just in his bedroom."

"Okay, then, explain yourself," I ordered as Henry and I sat down. "Why were you in your pitcher's bedroom?"

"I'm in a bind, okay?" He looked down at his hands. "I needed cash, bad. Gambling debts were coming due, and I couldn't bear to tell my wife."

"How did entering Thomas Bishop's bedroom help you get cash?"

"It didn't. It helped me get something to pawn for cash." Jonas stood up and began to pace. "He'd told me about his grandfather's watch and his grandmother's wedding ring. I figured, they've got to be old, right? Maybe old enough to be worth something. So I went to his house when he wasn't home yesterday morning, got in with the spare key under the mat, and searched his bedroom to find them."

"And did you?" Henry asked when he stopped speaking.

"Kind of. I found the safe, but I couldn't get it open, so I just took the safe with me. I have a buddy with a blowtorch. Gave him some story about how I'd forgotten the combination, and he opened it for me. I got the watch and the ring and pawned them for cash. I was going to give them back, you know? It was only going to be a temporary thing."

"Why didn't you just ask Bishop for help?" I inquired. "He seems to have been a nice guy. You were friends. Wouldn't he have helped you out?"

He shook his head. "Tom, he'd bailed me out too many times. Said he was cutting me off."

"Where are the ring and watch now?"

He gave me the address of the pawn shop. "One final question," I told him. "Where were you between eleven and two last night?"

"I left the press conference at eleven, and I went home to my wife," he said. "I swear, that's the truth!"

"Thank you, Mr. Jonas." Henry and I got up to leave.

"Wait, am I free to go?" he asked, trying to follow us out the door.

I turned to block the door. "Not quite, Mr. Jonas. You have committed a crime, and you have just confessed. An officer will be in here to process you in a moment."

"Wait–"

I shut the door in his face.

Lieutenant Reece stopped on her way to her office. "What's the verdict?" she asked, jerking her thumb at the door to Interrogation.

"Not our murderer, but he is our thief," I informed her. "He trashed Bishop's bedroom looking for valuables. He's the one who took the safe. Claims he needed something to pawn to pay off gambling debts."

She sighed. "Well, that's one mystery solved, at least. The murderer probably had no idea Bishop's bedroom had been trashed."

"We're going to head to the pawn shop and recover the items before they're gone," I said.

"Leave that for the morning," Lieutenant Reece told us. "Go home, get some rest. We'll be back at it tomorrow."

"Thanks, Lieu." I grabbed my coat and walked to the elevator with Henry. When the doors closed, he turned to me.

"I have a question, Detective."

"Shoot."

"Would you like to join me for dinner?"

I hesitated. I was exhausted.

"If you are fatigued from yesterday, that's quite all right," Henry added, seeing my hesitation.

I smiled up at him. He was so sweet, I couldn't bear to turn him down. "How does take-out at my place sound?"

His eyes lit up. "Perfect."

* * *

Thanks to everyone who has been reading, following, favoriting and reviewing! I'm having so much fun with this story. In case you want to be eager for tomorrow's chapter - it's called "Paris." ;)

KenH - I'm glad you liked last chapter! And your questions were answered. Miki Mae - thank you! I appreciate that. Superlc529 - yes, too soon for the real killer. I felt like throwing in a red herring like that was similar to how the show would have played it.


	9. Paris

We stopped for Chinese on the way to my house. When we got there, I said, "Let's skip the kitchen. The couch is more comfortable."

"Comfortable sounds good right now," Henry agreed. We sat on the couch, knees almost touching, as we ate in amiable silence.

I had just taken a bite of egg roll when he asked, "Did you ever consider your relationship with Isaac to be serious?"

I nearly spat out my mouthful. When I managed to swallow, I turned to stare at Henry. He was looking at his hands. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Jo – that was too personal. Forgive me."

"No, it's okay, I was just surprised." I considered the question as I finished the egg roll. "I don't know. It's… hard for me to have feelings for anyone, after Sean."

"I know how you feel." He reached out and patted my hand.

I thought back to dating Isaac. It seemed like it had been so long ago, but it hadn't – a month, at most. "I suppose I considered it serious when he wanted to take me to Paris."

"Right." There was silence for a moment. Then Henry inquired, almost timidly, "Why didn't you want to go to Paris, Jo?"

I set my take-out container on the coffee table and turned to look at him, curling my legs underneath me. "It wasn't that I didn't want to go to Paris," I told him. "I didn't want to go to Paris with Isaac." When he didn't say anything, I continued, "You told me that the best thing to do in Paris was to get lost with someone you love. I realized that I wanted that – but Isaac wasn't the one I wanted it with. I wanted to get lost in Paris – with you."

He turned to face me, leaning against the arm of the couch. "What are you saying, Jo?"

I smiled at him. "I think even our teenage waiter from lunch would have figured it out by now, Henry."

He took a deep breath. "Is that still how you feel?"

I shrugged. "Things are different now, certainly. You being immortal does change the details – but it doesn't change the way I feel."

Henry had been reaching out, as though to caress my cheek, but he stopped. "You're right," he said. "It does change the details."

"Henry–"

He cut me off. "No, Jo, listen. I need to tell you this, before I do anything else." He took a deep breath. "Have I told you why Abigail left?" I shook my head. "She left because... because I wasn't getting older, and she was. She couldn't bear it when we went out in public together and people assumed she was my mother. I like you, Jo. I like you very much. But I don't want you to make any decisions without knowing the facts – you will become an old woman someday, and I will still be a thirty-five-year-old man."

My heart broke, listening to him. This was it, then – this was why he never let anyone in. It was to protect himself and everyone else from harm. This protective nature was so Henry that I couldn't help myself. I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"I stand by what I've said before," I whispered in his ear. "We are two guarded, screwed up people. Even if you weren't immortal, you would still be as guarded and screwed up as I am." He chuckled softly at that. I continued, "But together – together we can be more, even if only for a little while. The future will come, Henry. Right now, let's think about tonight."

He didn't reply. Instead, he put his arms around me and pulled me close. I happily snuggled into his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, feel his lips on my hair. I hadn't felt this peaceful since Sean died.

"Jo?" he said after a moment.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

I leaned back a little so I could look him in the eyes. "I should be the one thanking you. I went off at you last night–"

He shook his head and stroked my hair with a gentle hand. "You are forgiven, darling. As you said, we are both guarded, screwed up people. We both have our demons to fight. Let's fight them together."

* * *

I re-wrote this chapter about seven times and I'm still not sure I'm satisfied. Let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who had read, followed, favorited, and reviewed, especially superlc529! :)


	10. Interviews

My intentions for an early bedtime were dashed. Henry and I stayed up until nearly one o'clock in the morning. He regaled me with anecdotes about growing up in the eighteenth century. In turn, he teased me until I shared my childhood memories with my sister Ellie. When I started to yawn in earnest, he insisted on taking a cab home instead of staying on the couch like he had a couple of times before.

"It would not be proper," he told me, eyes twinkling. "Please be aware, Jo – you are being courted." And he gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek before getting into the taxi.

For the first time in weeks, I slept well, remembering Henry's arms around me.

When I got to the precinct in the morning, Hanson looked at me as though he hardly recognized me. "You're in a good mood this morning," he commented.

"It's nice out today," I said, taking a seat at my desk. "How did your dealer hunting go?"

He grimaced. "Nada. We have the kids in custody – and we caught them with drugs on hand – but none of them are talking. Maybe you and Henry would have better luck."

I thought about this for a moment. "I don't know about that," I replied. "But I can think of someone else who might."

Alano's mother was only too happy to let him come in, if it might help us find the man who killed his mentor. He sat next to me during my interviews; Henry and Hanson looked on from Observation. We had decided the teens might respond best to a woman and their friend.

One by one, Alano and I asked his friends where we might find Tony Fields. The first two simply ignored us. The third became angry, yelling at Alano, calling him a traitor and a cop-lover. I could tell this was aggravating Alano, so I called a break before the next interview.

"I know this is frustrating, Alano," I told him. "But keep in mind, this isn't about you. Your friends – they've fallen victim to something that they can't shake easily. Grown men struggle with what your friends are trying to figure out."

Alano nodded. I consulted my list. "Next is Sebastian Valdez. What can you tell me about him?"

"Sebastian just graduated. He held out the longest in Tom's group," Alano said. "He wanted to resist Tony, he really did, but when his mom lost her job, he felt like he had no choice."

"All right." I made a note, then asked, "Are you ready?"

Alano got to his feet. "Let's do this."

Hanson brought Sebastian to the conference room, and Alano and I entered together. "Hello, Sebastian," I said as we sat down. I chose a seat across from him, while Alano sat at the head of the table next to him. "My name is Detective Jo Martinez, and you know Alano, of course."

"Hi, Sebastian," Alano said quietly.

"Hi, Alano," Sebastian replied.

Encouraged by this exchange of greetings, I went on to the next point of business. "We know that you've been dealing drugs at your school, Sebastian." He said nothing. "We understand that you were pressed into doing this by Tony Fields, who also recruited several of your friends."

"You know me, Sebastian," Alano told him. "You're my friend. I don't want to see you go to jail. And Detective Martinez here, she doesn't want you to go to jail, either."

We waited. Alano and I had practiced this; we set the bait, and waited to see if his friends would take it. I held my breath, watching Sebastian's face.

After a moment, Sebastian set his hands on the table. "What do you want, then?"

I leaned forward to look him in the eyes. "We want Tony Fields. Help us find him, and you won't be charged for dealing."

Sebastian let out a breath. "I want that in writing before I say another word."

"I'll get it for you right away," I promised.

Ten minutes later, Lieutenant Reece and the court-appointed attorney had approved the deal. Alano and I returned to the conference room and presented it to Sebastian. He signed.

"Where is Tony Fields?" I asked.

"We always meet him at this park near the school, at about three o'clock."

"Has he ever mentioned Thomas Bishop to you?"

"Yeah, several times. He wanted Alano to deal for him, said he was smarter than the rest of us." He glanced at Alano, then looked away. "He didn't like Bishop keeping him away. And he thought Bishop might steal some of us back, too."

I thanked Sebastian and arranged for him to stay in the police station until Fields was caught. When he was safely tucked away in the break room with a uniform, I turned to Alano.

"Well done, Alano," I praised. "You hit just the right note with Sebastian. We never would have gotten that information without you."

"Alano?"

We both turned to see Emily Bishop entering the squad room. "I wanted to see if you had any new leads," she told me, before turning to Alano. "I've missed you."

He gave her a big hug. "I've missed you too, Emily."

Emily asked over Alano's shoulder, "Have you gotten any new leads?"

"We have, thanks to Alano here. He's been an enormous help."

"I'm glad." She broke away from Alano's hug for a moment. "Will you let me know when you catch the man who did this?"

"Of course, Miss Bishop. If you'd like, I can catch you up on what we've discovered so far."

She hesitated, looking at Alano. "Unless you need my help, there's something I need to tell Alano."

"No, we don't need your help at this time," I told her. "I'll give you a call later today, unless you'd like to stay here with Alano. His friend is in the break room."

"Thank you, Detective." She put her arm around Alano and led him towards the break room. I heard her say, "I talked to Leon Fisher today. He said that in my father's stead, he wants to help you enter the Minor Leagues. He heard too much about you from my father to let you slip through the cracks."

I smiled at their retreating figures. From behind me, Henry said into my ear, "I don't think either Emily or Alano will be alone, even without Mr. Bishop."

I looked over my shoulder at him. "No, they look like they'll take care of each other."

Henry was about to reply when Lieutenant Reece called us into her office. Hanson was already there. "Status report," she ordered.

"We have a possible location for Tony Fields," Henry and I said together.

"A park near Alano's school, where he meets his teen dealers at about three o'clock," Hanson added.

"Good work," Lieutenant Reece said. "Jo, Henry, have you located the missing ring and watch yet?" When we shook our heads, she continued, "Go to that pawn shop and recover Bishop's stolen items. Hanson, gather a team for this afternoon's takedown of Tony Fields. Check with Narcotics, see if their information matches what you've found. Get all the facts you can on him. He is still our most likely suspect?"

"For sure, Lieu," I said. "There have been no other red flags, except for the first baseman, and he alibied out."

"Very good. Let's get this bastard."

* * *

Two chapters left, everyone! Get excited. Thanks to everyone for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing!

Superlc529 and KenH - thank you for the compliments on my last chapter! I knew that I wanted it to happen, but I still can't decide if it was too quick of a shift from Jo's state of mind at the beginning of the story. From your comments, I'm going to guess that you think it worked out okay. :)


	11. Ready

Henry and I headed to the pawn shop. When we explained that the ring and watch were stolen property, the owner demanded proof before he would hand them over. I pulled out my phone and showed him a picture of Thomas Bishop. "Is this the man who pawned the ring and watch?" I asked.

"No."

"There's your proof," I said. "He was the owner of the watch and ring. If you are still not convinced, I can have the bank send over the information they have on file."

"No, that's okay. That's Thomas Bishop, isn't it? I wouldn't want to have any association with his murder. Here, you can have the watch and ring, as long as I get my money back from the other guy."

We assured him that he would, and left with watch and ring in hand. "I'm glad we got these back before they were sold," I said as we got into the car.

"Me, too. I'm sure Miss Bishop will be grateful to have them returned."

I buckled my seat belt and was reaching for the ignition when Henry captured my hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it. "What was that for?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You're so beautiful, I couldn't help it," he replied, releasing my hand with a smile.

I smiled back, touched. "Thank you, Henry."

"Speaking of your beauty, Jo, I have a question," Henry said as I started to drive.

"What is it?"

"Are we officially – I believe the colloquial term is "dating," yes?"

I wanted to burst into giggles, but I controlled myself. Barely. "Would you like that?"

My eyes were on the road, but I could hear his grin in his voice as he replied, "Yes, I would like that very much, Jo."

"Then yes, we are."

"Will that be a problem at work?"

I cocked my head as I thought about it. "I don't think so. The OCME and the Eleventh work together, but we're not the same."

"Will Lieutenant Reece see it that way?"

I shrugged. "I don't know why she wouldn't, as long as it doesn't affect our work."

"Good." His tone sent shivers down my spine. "Because I'm not certain I would care."

We arrived at the precinct and found Hanson instructing a combined team of uniforms and Narcotics detectives. He held up a photo. "This is our mark. Tony Fields, thirty-five, scrawny, brown hair, brown eyes. He's the prime suspect in the Thomas Bishop murder. Probably carrying a forty-five. We expect him to be at Greenfield Park at three o'clock, so we'll be in place by two o'clock."

A Narcotics detective stepped forward to assign positions. Hanson saw us and came over to greet us. "Did you hear? Two o'clock. You'll be with me and Detective McGee there."

"Sounds like a plan," I told him. "We retrieved the watch and ring. I'll take them to evidence and see that they get to Emily soon." Hanson nodded and returned to McGee's side. I turned to Henry. "Want to grab a quick lunch?"

We took the ring and watch to evidence, then went outside and found a food truck. I ignored Henry's protests about unsanitary conditions and bought us both a gyro, along with one for Hanson. "Just try it," I urged through a mouthful. "You'll love it."

He eyed his gyro with a critical eye. "The things I do for you, Jo Martinez," he said, and took a bite. His eyes widened as he chewed.

"Amazing, right?" I asked, grinning.

He swallowed and said, "You're absolutely right."

Hanson met us at the elevator as we were returning. "Are you two ready to go?"

I nodded and handed him his gyro. "Let's go catch us a drug dealer."

* * *

One chapter left! Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and reviewed. I truly never expected to get this much response to my stories. :)

Okay, bonus points time. Who can figure out what the names Thomas, Bishop, Emily, Tim, Leon, David, Tony, and McGee have in common? They're all related to a particular fandom.

Superlc529 - Thank you for your compliments once again! I'm glad you think Jo's shift made sense. KenH - Thanks! Don't worry, another story is in the works!


	12. Extraordinary

Hanson and Detective McGee were sitting on a bench. Through the coms, I could hear that they were intently discussing basketball. Henry and I were seated under a nearby tree on a blanket. I was leaning against the tree, while Henry was reading a book.

"See anything yet?" Henry asked without looking up.

"Not yet," I said. "Hanson?"

"Nope," he replied. We heard "no" in various different ways from everyone on the team. I sighed.

"It's not three o'clock yet, Detective," Henry reminded me.

"I know. I'm just eager to get this guy."

"I understand." Subtly, Henry patted my knee. "Don't worry, Detective, we'll get him."

I smiled at him. "I know." Then, over his shoulder, I saw a skinny white man coming up the sidewalk. I squinted. It was Tony Fields. "Coming through the west entrance," I said into the coms.

"Copy that," said everyone over the coms.

"We're on it," Hanson said. He and McGee got to their feet. Fields saw them. He must have been a paranoid sort, because Hanson and McGee didn't really look suspicious, but Fields ran anyway. "Police, freeze!" Hanson shouted.

"We've got a rabbit," I said as I jumped to my feet and raced after Fields. Hanson and McGee were right with me, and Henry a few steps behind. A couple of uniforms blocked the park entrance, and Fields veered around them, into the trees. I grinned; he'd fallen into our trap. A few seconds later, Fields backed out of the trees, hands in the air. Two Narcotics detectives had guns drawn on him.

"On the ground, now!" they barked. Fields obeyed. Hanson stepped in to search him and took several baggies of drugs from his pockets and a forty-five from his belt.

"Looks like our murder weapon, eh, Doc?" he asked, holding it up.

"Indeed it does," Henry replied.

Tony Fields didn't confess, but he didn't need to. We had the word of Sebastian Valdez – and some of Alano's other friends, now that Fields was caught. Forensics also matched the forty-five to the bullet that killed Bishop. Tony Fields was going away for a long time.

"Thomas Bishop was truly extraordinary," Henry commented as we left the precinct.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"He reminded everyone he met that they were not alone. He had his share of struggles, I'm sure, after his wife died – but he dedicated his life to helping others with theirs."

We reached my car. Henry opened the driver's side door for me and bowed me inside. When he got into the passenger side, I asked, "Do you feel alone, Henry?"

He smiled at me and took my hands in his. "Not when I'm with you, Jo."

I squeezed his hands. "When this case started, I felt incredibly alone. I thought no one understood my struggles." Henry started to speak, but I put a finger to his lips. "Learning more about Thomas Bishop, solving this case, made me realize that I don't have to be alone. I have people who love me, who are dedicated to helping me with my struggles."

He kissed my finger. "Who do you have, Detective?"

"Hanson," I teased. "Lieutenant Reece. Lucas. Abe."

He kissed my finger again. "Anyone else?"

"My mother, my sister, my brother-in-law, my niece..."

He moved my finger and leaned forward until his lips were tantalizingly close to mine. "Is that all?"

I would have answered, but I suddenly found I couldn't breathe. Instead, I closed my eyes and kissed him. He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled me closer, deepening the kiss.

A few minutes later, I tilted my head back to look at him. "Does that answer your question?" I asked, smiling into his eyes.

"I'm not sure," he murmured. "I really could use another answer."

Laughing, I readjusted until I was sitting in the driver's seat again. I had been almost in Henry's lap. "Let's continue this conversation at my place," I told him.

"Gladly," he said. Before I could start the car, he stole one more kiss.

* * *

And there you have it, folks. A 'forever' couple is made. :P Thanks to everyone for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! I had so much fun writing this story, and I seem to be on a roll, because I'm working on another one already. If anyone has ideas for one-shots or stories they'd like to see, let me know and I'll see what I can do. ;)

To me, the title "Together" has three meanings. First is the obvious, that Jo and Henry got together as a couple. Second, the victim was someone who brought people together. Third, the case wouldn't have been solved without a lot of people and a lot of details coming together. Jo, Henry and Hanson couldn't have solved it on their own. They needed that togetherness.

Bonus points to KenH and N3GatorFan - the names were indeed from NCIS. :)

KenH - The answer was neither. :P I decided that occasionally, the well-laid plans of the police do actually work. Superlc529 - I figure, they've been holding in the flirting for awhile now, Henry was overdue for some cheesiness! N3GatorFan - Thank you for the compliments of my plot! And to all three of you - I'm glad you enjoyed the gyro scene as much as I did. :) Passerby - thank you for sharing how that works. I was having trouble finding information on it, but I figured there was some way to do it!

Again, thank you all for reading, and I hope you'll check out my next story when I finish it!


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